party of four
by mr.anomoly
Summary: a herald, a courier, a dragon, and a shepard four different heroes, four different realities pulled away from the worlds they know into a strange version of earth they must work together to survive (this is a multicrossover involving skyrim,fallout,mass effect,dragon age and rifts)
1. Chapter 1

disclaimer: i do not own anything here skyrim and fallout belongs to bethesda dragon age and mass effect belong to bioware , respectively

notes: i am using - The Dragon Language Dictionary to translate dovahzul if you want to find out what they're saying in dragontongue, later on if its important to the story ill provide translation below

this is my first story so please be gentle

also some 0f you may have noticed that i briefly took this story down then reposted it my apologies there was some editing i had neglected ill try to do better in future

chapter-01

meet the party

"come then Dovahkiin! luft zey! let us see whose thu'um is stronger!"

"hi tinvaak ahk pogass! you talk too much World-eater mayhaps you intend to bore me to death?" Aslandar of clan oath-shield called into the whipping wind. Sounding braver than he felt. He had been fighting alongside the tongues in sovngarde, when alduin suddenly shouted them both back to the mortal realm, appearing on top of one of skyrim's many mountains. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he must of cut an imposing figure. For his body was clad head to toe in the wolf armour of the companions. Fur cloak billowing in the storm behind him. Tall and strong as any nord, his face was pale skinned and marked with a swirling pattern of blue warpaint upon his chiseled left cheek. His blonde beard full but closely trimmed, leading to an equally blonde head full of long hair. Which had been weaved into four separate warriors braids. Upon this heroic visage sat the horned helm of yngol son of ysgramor. on his back was strapped the ancient axe wuuthrad, which was once borne by ysgramor himself. Held in a defensive pose in front of him was that very same warrior of old's shield carved with the face of a dragon. Beside this age old piece was held aloft a newer but no less potent tool, his own sword of skyforge steel made by the smith eorlund grey mane and modified by his own design and skill. All of this was enchanted so as to increase their effectiveness tenfold. Had anyone else been there to witness him standing so, ankle deep in the snow of the peak. They would of thought him some arcane sky-warrior or a demigod come down to earth.

...They would not be far from the truth.

He had been called by many titles in his life

'Hero & Saviour'

'Dragon-slayer'

'Harbinger of the companions'

'General-stormblade'

'Oath keeper'

for his heirloom gear and his hatred of the dreaded thalmor he had been called 'the Heir of Ysgramor'

but most of all they called him 'Dovahkiin' or in common tongue 'Dragonborn'

It was not so long ago, that he had been but the second son of an old but impoverished clan. He had been hired out as a caravan guard. Not content to simply sit around the mead-hall. He was in elsweyr when news finally reached him of the civil war in his homeland. He had immediately packed up everything he owned. Intent on seeing if his family was alright. But he had been caught up in an imperial ambush, and taken to helgen. On that fateful day the dragon attacked … so much had happened since then.

Like any good nord he was thrilled by the prospect of battle, and many powerful foes had fallen beneath his blade. But now standing here facing alduin the worldeater, whom it was his ultimate destiny to defeat. He felt no pride or power in his own glories for they all seemed so … trivial compared to the foe he faced now. For the son of akatosh was the king of all dragons and a god in his own right, and though he could match this titan of immortal ages shout for shout, and blow for blow so far, and though the face he put forward was brave. He could not prevent cold fear from clamping down on his heart, and his slight shiver came not from the cold. Nevertheless the mortal man directed his ice-blue eyes at the frozen vista around him. Searching for any sign of his terrifying foe. For that massive black spiked body, those leathery wings and most of all those blood red inhuman eyes.

there.

A small dark spot among the endless grey and white slowly growing larger and larger.

the dragonborn breathed in preparing his thu'um. Before a bright yellow flash suddenly overtook his vision. Taking him into the depths of unconsciousness.

Leaving the mountaintop just as empty as before he arrived.

BANG!

The sharp retort of the longue carabine echoed through the air. As the .357 magnum round found it's target in the right temple of a brahmin. Pushing all the way through the skull out the other side and right into the beast's next head, killing it in under a second.

"boom headshot"

Muttered a man on a nearby ridge. The man's skin was leathery and tanned from so many days in the mojave. Though most of it was covered by a piece of cloth he had pulled up, to protect his face from the billowing dust that had so often blinded him in the past. His brown eyes peered out towards his kill, seeing it's next of kin were fleeing the area as fast as their misshapen bodies would allow them. Not that he blamed them but it wasn't as if he needed anything more from them … yet. Pulling his favorite brown fedora over his short cropped brown hair to keep the sun out. He set out towards his supper for the night. Funny thing that hat, he had found it near goodsprings on an old skeleton resting inside a pre-war refridgerator. What it was doing there he had no idea but he decided not to question it, there were weirder things out in the wasteland. His lanky form clad in leather armour of his own fashion set out towards the mutant corpse. Strapping his rifle back onto his leather backpack as he approached he kept a hand on the holster of his AEP7 laser pistol, better safe than sorry you never knew what was out there. It took him less than an hour to skin and carve up the creature, so night was only just falling as he returned to his makeshift campsite. The pot he had left was already boiling with some vegetables he had left there to simmer, just waiting for the main course to be thrown in. The smell was intoxicating. A happy 'bark!' greeted him as scout got up and nuzzled his keeper's leg. Giving his dog a pet on the head, He wasted no time in preparing the meat and skins before throwing the former in the pot to cook and the latter in his bag for later.

"Were gonna eat good tonight huh boy?"

'Bark!'

"Yeah i thought you'd say something like that" the hunter chuckled to himself as he leaned back against the pole of his tent

As he watched the food cook and felt scout sit back down next to him, he remarked that some might find his apparent fondness of the wilds strange. It wasn't that he didn't like people, hell some of them were really nice. But out here things were so much …. simpler there were no roving gangs of bandits and mutants. (actually there were this is were they specifically resided in fact but you didn't THINK of them out here) There were no republics and legions building up to a massive war. There were no mysterious killers he had to track down to get his answers from.

speaking of …

He reached into his shirt and pulled out the only thing he had of his former life. The only clues as to who he was before his memories were taken from him. A pair of metal dog tags rested in his hand, both attached the a string chord he had around his neck. On one was printed

MARCUS

The other held a whole two words.

8th ranger

And that was all he had to go on. What was he hoped his first name and presumably an identification of some sort. Though he had yet to find any group, military or otherwise called the 'Eighth rangers' and it didn't look like he was going to anytime soon.

"Rrruff" He looked down at scout who was returning the look with what marcus determined to be concern. He smiled slightly. "no use depressing myself over it huh boy?" Scratching him behind the ears he relaxed again. "i've got my rifle and you and the open mojave before me what else do i need right?" The canines only response was to look back to the fire. Knowing it would take a while for the food to cook, marcus crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes to get some shuteye while he could.

So with his eyes closed as they were he couldn't see the sudden yellow flash around him as he disappeared pack and all from his place.

Scout looked around confused.

"bark?"

...and so the grey warden sacrificed themselves in combat to defeat urthemiel the archdemon and with him gone the rest of the darkspawn horde were scattered back into the depths and saving the rest of the world thus ends the tale of

"Inquisitor!"

Maera sighed disappointed in the fact that she wouldn't be able to finish her book. Sometimes she thought the other members of her 'inquisition' existed only to torment her.

Forcing herself to look away from the old pages. The young elf mage turned her head to look at who had disturbed her research …

It was cassandra the seeker "inquisitor your presence is required immediately"

"oh what is it now cassandra? can't you see i'm busy?"

"the circle have a request for us i thought you would be interested in that"

Indeed she was though she was a dalish elf, and studied under her keeper she had an extreme interest in any sort of magic practiced by anyone, including the circle. In fact she had an extreme interest in any sort of knowledge at all, knowledge after all was power as her mentor used to say. As she got up and prepared to follow cassandra she regarded herself in the mirror that had been provided to her. she was fairly pretty by most standards she supposed, if a bit on the small side. Long auburn hair almost red that went past her shoulders framed her fair face. The reflection of emerald green eyes stared back at her. Her blue and golden robes draped over her thin form, A bracelet adorned her left wrist a few small charms decorating it, a reminder of where she came from, and of course the ever present electric green mark glowing slightly in her right palm.

She was born in clan sabrae to two hunters, fehlen and pallana. It became apparent from an early age that she had magical aptitude but more than that she was curious … ever so curious. She always wanted to learn more, to understand everything about everything. While the other children listened to the elders speak she sat to the side watched a tree and wondered why it's leaves were the shape that they were. Everyone was kind enough to her she supposed. Even if she wasn't exactly popular that didn't bother her though. She didn't get lonely not as long as she had something else to wonder about. When the time came she was moved to study as the first of the keeper of clan lavellan, brialya. She studied under her for barely a year learning all she could of the magical arts. Before the whole deal with the breach. She still found it hard to believe that she had been apparently chosen as the herald of andraste. The reason being she was obviously a mage and an elf which had caused quite a bit of tension. If the maker wanted a champion he had chosen a strange one.

…

She hoped the circle had some books they were willing to give up.

"inquisitor?" Cassandra's voice pulled her from her musings "right sorry" As she grabbed her metal staff Maera had this sudden feeling that something was terribly terribly wrong. An almost natural sense that something unnatural was happening. But before she could examine it further the strange premonition left. Shrugging it off as nothing more than the stress of her position getting to her, she began to briskly walk outside cassandra following right behind her. As she opened the door a sudden gust of wind sent her mane flying before finally settling down. Looking around Haven as she began to walk. She saw all the denizens of the makeshift town going about their daily duties. She could hear the ring of hammer on metal as the smith worked away, and the clucking of chickens as they were herded to one place or another. But most of all she could hear them.

The people almost all of them, talking to each other in hushed whispers. Their tone one of awe, respect and even mild fear. The worst part was when the occasional one would bow slightly and mutter 'herald' in greeting. Maera strutted past them all feeling uneasy. Though it had been like this for a while, she still was definitely not used to the idea of being in charge of someone.

"they believe in you you know" came Cassandra's voice "they trust you, they have hope in you" Though she didn't look back maera responded "But why me? i'm not nearly experienced enough to lead anyone. These days have been my first outside of dalish camps, and i'm a mage for fade's sake! and i'm supposed to be the chosen one of the chantry? it doesnt make any sense!" Cassandra was silent then apparently thinking over her words. This allowed the elf to think to herself trying to come up with ANY reason this would be her place. It was nearly five minutes before cassandra spoke again "Because they need to." This time maera did look back her face one of confusion. "These are dark times inquisitor and hope is hard to come by, you provide that hope maera" Maera highly doubted this but nodded for her to continue anyway. "It doesn't really matter if you're the herald or not it's the IDEA of the herald that's important the people look to you because you are a symbol, you bear the mark, you can close the rifts, and you were at the conclave all of that could mean your the maker's daughter sent down to thedas or it could mean nothing at all but they THINK it means something so they fight on because of you they know they have a fighting chance you have given them a flag to rally behind and a name to latch their hope to this is why they follow you because honestly they have no one else to follow" The woman apparently didn't have any more to add after that and simply focused her eyes forward. Maera did the same not knowing what to say as she mulled over the words given to her.

There it was again.

More pronounced this time. Still faint but noticeable and not small enough to ignore. It was magical in nature she could determine that now at least. Some sort of strange static buildup of energy in the air. She stopped in the middle of the road and turned back to cassandra. "did you feel that?" The woman surprised by this sudden change in demeanour was startled for a second before replying. "feel what?" "that … that pulse" Pulse was definitely the word maera would use to describe it, as it didn't feel so much like a singular event as it did a dilation within a larger system. What that system was however she had no idea. "I felt no pulse inquisitor … are you well?" The event was magical in nature perhaps only those attuned to magic could pick it up? "i-im fine cassandra lets just continue" cassandra gave her a concerned look before nodding once

They reached their destination in 'the war room' shortly thereafter. With no further incident. As she entered maera noticed a man wearing a mage robe fidgeting uncomfortably at one end of the table. Solas was also looking concerned though he did a better job of hiding it. But maera could see it in his face. "ahh so you're the herald?" The new mage spoke. "so im told" Responded Maera cautiously. "FINALLY … you have no idea how important this is … it has come to our attention that-" He was cut off there as maera suddenly let out a scream and dropped to the floor clutching her head.

It was back.

But this time it wasn't faint at all. This time it screamed in her mind and she could feel a maelstrom of magic swirling around her, and not just magic. Something else too, something she didn't know. Was adding to whatever foul spell was being weaved here. Through teary eyes she saw both solas and the stranger have similar reactions. She could hear the frantic voices of the others calling for aid. But it was too late, looking up she saw the same thing she had been fighting for the past few days.

A rift.

But this was much more. Not only was the magic around it impossibly powerful. The other force was there too pushing and pulling just beyond her perception. Maera felt herself being drawn in. She tried to fight it but it was like holding a candle to a rainstorm. Slowly inch by inch she was pulled forward. As she sipped into darkness she noticed one last thing.

… this rift was yellow

"here's to you mordin you were a good scientist and a damn fine man!"

"HEAR HEAR!" Cried the rest of her team as they simultaneously downed their glasses of scotch. Commander alice shepard looked across the bar at the rest of her team conversing among themselves. But her eyes were inexorably drawn to the young krogan sitting at the far end. Silently looking into his drink. Before now she thought it was impossible for the giant lizard-like warrior race to look depressed. A lot of impossible things were happening recently. A large red gauntleted hand suddenly placed itself upon grunt's shoulder. Both his and her own gaze looked up, to see a much older and battle scarred krogan sit himself down next to the cloned one. 'at least someone's getting some comfort' She thought morosely. The salarian doctor's demise had hit her whole team very hard. So she had used it as an excuse. To stop off at the nearest inhabited planet whose name she didn't pay attention to. But more importantly it was an excuse to get drunk. The sudden loss of a friend wasn't the only thing weighing down the spectre's mind. It had not been too long ago, that the pro-human organization known as 'cerberus' had used some sort of forbidden project. To resurrect her from the dead. As their own personal weapon, and she hated them for it. She didn't ask to be brought back to this screwed up galaxy, but here she was. The council she was supposed to work for apparently didn't trust her much. Because of her association with cerberus which had been named a terrorist group. Not that she blamed them she didn't trust those racists as far as she could throw them. But they were the ones who brought her back to life, and they were apparently the only ones who really believed her about the reaper threat. Oh yeah did she forget to mention that to herself? There was a race of sentient super warships out there. Intent on destroying everything she knew and loved. Just one more thing to add to the list.

To try and clear her mind she closed her eyes for a second.

Major mistake.

She should've expected it really, but somehow it caught her by surprise every time.

The faces.

The faces of everyone she had killed over her career. Human, turian, asari it didn't matter. They were there every time she closed her eyes. Staring at her, judging her. It didn't take her long to realize that she HATED killing. She could do it all day long. But as soon as it was over, and she could think without being shot at. She couldn't look at herself without disgust. It had all started on torfan. Every one of those people no matter how much of a thug or villain had a life. A history a home, a family, parents, wives husbands, children. She never understood how the others had coped. The only time the faces didn't come, is when she was either A:drunk B:forcibly knocked out or C: too tired to even realize she had gone to sleep. The first option always sounded the best to her.

"commander?" A tentative voice asked her.

"hmm?" She blearily looked up into the concerned face of garrus.

"it's almost midnight commander" The turian said. No that couldn't be right, but looking towards the clock she realized it was. The rest of her team had apparently retired as well. They were the only ones in the building. She must've let time slip away from her as she delved into her thought's nodding she tried to get up.

… And nearly fell flat on her ass. Looking down she saw at least a dozen empty glasses resting at her place on the counter. It came to her then that while she was deep in depressing thought, she had been mindlessly waving for more drinks and gulping them down. Must've been too drunk to pay attention to what she was doing.

Garrus loyal as ever, let her lean on him, and escorted her back towards the ship. As they entered the newly rebuilt normandy SR2 it became apparent that everyone else was already fast asleep. Garrus must've stayed up to make sure she got to bed. The stupid turian. When they arrived at her door she mumbled a thanks, and went in by herself. Leaving garrus to return to his own quarters. The door closed with a light 'hsss'. As she slumped against the wall, and checked herself in her personal mirror. Her skin almost ghostly pale as a result of living in spaceships her whole life. Was contrasted by the raven black hair she had closely cropped around her face. Storm grey eyes studied the reflection of a long scar on her left cheek. A reminder of what had happened on torfan. On the other cheek were glowing yellow marks. A reminder of how she was still breathing. Her body was still clad in her heavy predator armour. Painted to look like her old N7 gear. Her avenger assault rifle mark 5 was folded up on her back, along with her savage mark 4 shotgun. Being too lazy and too drunk to take it all off, she climbed into her bed and started to drift off.

She could've sworn the lights were off when she entered. Why was everything yellow?


	2. Chapter 2

notes: i am using  .  to translate english to dovahzul

also for lack of a better setting ive decided to dump them in rifts earth so that will be added to the list

ill not be adding another franchise

...yet

disclaimer: skyrim and fallout belong to bethesda , mass effect and dragon age belong to bioware and rifts belongs to palladium books

i own nothing here

chapter - 02

welcome party

'bzzzt'

"... five more minutes" A tired alice shepard called out.

Another happy 'bzzt' before she felt something land on her face. Slowly cautious of the vulnerability to light she knew a hangover came with. She opened her eyes. But surprisingly it never came, and there on her nose crawling around like it owned the place was a big fat bee.

Now the commander shepard a council spectre and many times heroe was no coward. However it is only the natural reaction to a giant bug on your face to want it off.

"GAH!" The woman cried out as she swatted at the thing. It's fat body however was somehow able to avoid her gauntleted hand. She glared after it as she pondered. They didn't have any insects on the normandy did they? She continued to attempt to incinerate it with her eyes. As it flew it's way up to a ash grey beehive. That had been constructed in the crook between two branches of a large oak tree.

… they didn't have any oak trees either right?

Slowly her eyes widening in dawning realization. She panned around to review her surroundings. She sat at the far end an oval shaped glade of long grass reaching at least to ankle height. The glade was surrounded by a ring of mixed oak and birch trees. Cutting right through the middle was a small dirt path. No markings to indicate where it went. Swiftly jumping up from where she had been apparently placed, leaning next to a tree. She voiced her confusion.

"what the hell happened?"

Almost immediately she clamped a hand over her mouth, and began to curse herself mentally. She was in unknown possibly hostile territory. With none of her teammates anywhere in sight to back her up, and she basically just gave away her position. It must've been the hangover messing up her thinking.

...No actually it wasn't. That was another thing, she wasn't hungover. Despite her excessive drinking the night earlier. The bright sun overhead didn't send pain lancing through her eyes, and she was fully aware of herself and her immediate surroundings. Whatever had brought her here apparently cures hangovers as a side effect. Either that or it was just kind enough to relieve her of her pain. Both of those seemed unlikely. The commander try as she might could not recognize where she was from memory. Though it looked similar to an old earth forest. She realized her best option was probably to follow the path. The path meant people, and people might mean answers. She pulled out her assault rifle, and set out cautiously down to the left of the trail. She kept her weapon at chest height pointed ahead of her, and her eyes were searching back and forth for any hostile activity.

Almost ten straight minutes of walking and nothing had yet to trouble her.

There.

Sudden movement to her right. She immediately directed both her firearm and her sight towards it, and was about to call out a warning.

When an animal bounded out of the bush right onto the middle of the thin path and looked to her.

A deer with light brown fur, black eyes and tall antlers regarded her curiously. No fear in it's eyes. Before bounding off in the opposite direction in came from. alice released a small sigh of relief. Feeling foolish as she pondered the earth creature.

The place must've been colonized by humans. It was the only explanation she could find for all the earth flora and fauna around her. Squaring her shoulders she pushed on through. The forest was more or less silent the only sounds being latent wind and gentle birdsong in the background. Which helped to calm her down.

Shepard wasn't exactly accustomed to the outdoors. Most of her missions took place in urban environments. So it wasn't unlikely to happen. But it still surprised her when 'SNAP!' A branch she could've sworn wasn't there before broke underfoot. Once again the commander began a mental self-flagellation at her own idiocy. Which could've just gotten her killed. Looking around she breathed another sigh of relief as saw that she was apparently still alone. She was about to set off again when a voice called out from her left

"and who might this be lads?"

She had been stupid enough to let someone sneak up on her.

"looks like a pretty lady boss"

"that so huh? and what might a pretty thing like you be doing out here lass?"

The first voiced replied. Then a third voice added.

"i dunno boss she's got a gun and some sorta armour"

Before the 'boss' could speak again alice decided to speak and hopefully get some answers "commander shepard council spectre show yourselves drop any weapons you might be carrying and you will not be harmed"

"commander? do ya reckon she's with the coalition? she looks the type"

Coalition? Shepard didn't know of any group called the 'coalition'. Much less be apart of one.

"nah dead boys don't come out this far"

She also didn't know what a 'dead boy' was but it definitely didn't sound pleasant.

"enough talking! i want answers who are you and what is this place?"

"it appears missus commander that ya don't quite understand the situation y'see it appears we have you at a disadvantage"

Then from all around her on either side of the trail at least a dozen men stepped out. Most of them armed with some kind of pistol, and strange makeshift metal armour. Coloured rust brown. Some had masks of the same metal. Or bandanas covering their face.

Shepard grimaced as another one stepped out into the middle of the trail. With a much bigger gun. She recognized his voice as the 'boss'. he wore a mask that looked like it used to be used for hockey. She tightened the grip on her rifle preparing for a fight. It didn't look good but she was no pushover, and she had been in tougher situations.

"youre making a mistake here"

" uh huh" he muttered unimpressed "so what's gonna happen here is that you're gonna hand over all of your-"

"OOF!" They were interrupted as someone fell out of the brush in between two of the would-be bandits. Apparently they were just as surprised as they stepped back in shock and pointed their weapons at the new target. As the figure stood up she recognized that it was another woman. A tall woman with long auburn hair. Clothed in a strange blue and gold robe, and clutching a metal staff. With …. were those pointed ears?

Maera ran.

She didn't know how far or fast she ran. Only that it was faster and farther than she had ever run in her life.

Immediately upon awakening she had sensed it.

A rift that was not a rift. It was like the one that had taken her here. With some other invisible energy beyond her understanding, working to bring it together, and it was massive.

Larger even than the breach judging by the energy it was pulling.

Maybe it WAS the breach from this side of the fade.

Is it possible for it to be larger in it's realm of origin?

For that was most certainly where she was. She had been pulled through a rift. Where else could she be but the fade?

Granted this didn't look like any form of the fade she had read, been told of, or experienced. But the fade was a tricky place, and the demons could fool your perception of reality.

Granted she hadn't seen any demons either.

Other than plants the only life she had encountered was a few stray forest animals. Rabbits deer and such.

But they weren't forest animals. Not really, they couldn't be could they? Maybe they were demons in disguise?

But none of that mattered now. Maera didn't know much about what had happened. Why or how she was brought here. Or where here actually was, except for the fact that it was most likely some part of the fade.

All she knew was she had to get back.

That meant she needed a door.

A rift.

Most likely the nearby one she could feel.

And so she had set off. In the direction of the massive one that drew her attention like a moth to light. Going as fast as her legs would carry her.

She had to get out.

Back to haven.

Back to safety and the inquisition.

More importantly she knew if she didn't get out, she was probably doomed.

She had heard many harrowing tales, of the fates of those caught in the traps of demons none of which were good.

And so she ran through the forest. Ignoring every obstacle in her way. Pushing past the branches that clawed at her hair and clothes. Jumping over rocks that were in her way. Despite not being the most athletic individual, she was a dalish elf born and raised in forest areas. So she could navigate her way well enough.

Were those voices up ahead?

Yes definitely she confirmed to herself, as she began to slow down to listen more closely.

There were a few of them.

Most were rough and brutish voices, definitely male. But the other had the unmistakable air of a female. Sure and strong, she knew this person was used to giving orders.

As she came closer she could begin to make out some words.

"...mistake"

"...gonna happen here….hand over all your-"

Unfortunately for the young mage. She was unable to hear the end of that sentence. As it was that exact moment her dalish skills decided to betray her. As she tripped over some unseen root, and was flung bodily through the bush. To land with a loud 'OOF' face first in the dirt. Blinking rapidly and groaning. As she swiftly pulled herself up and looked at her surroundings.

She had landed in the middle of a dirt path, and apparently in the middle of a confrontation as well. Around her were a dozen or so rough looking men. wearing rusty armour. All of them bore strange angular objects. With little tubes on them. One with slightly better armour and a decorative mask. In his hands a much larger version of the other's weapons. Also on the path on the other side of her from the masked man. Stood a woman a little shorter than herself. Human by the looks of it. She too wore armour. But it was different than the others. It looked professionally made. All black with a red stripe down one side. A white N7 printed on it. In her hands was another strange tube weapon. But again different from the others. It was red in colour and of a different make.

The woman's face was almost ghostly pale, and it bore glowing mark's on one side. Similar to her herald mark. Only they were yellow in colour. Like the rift that brought her here.

Mayhaps this was the one who had summoned her to this realm?

She wore her raven black hair in a style similar to cassandras, and her storm grey eyes were fixed on maera with a look of incredulity.

"who's this then?" Said the masked man. Whom she presumed was the leader of the band.

"looks like one o' them mage types boss what with the fancy robes and staff and what not"

"maybe we should pull out? i think we've bit off more than we can chew" A third voice joined his tone laced with worry.

"...naw we can still take 'em" But maera could hear the doubt in his voice.

One of the men stepped forward reaching his hand out.

"... right then girlie let's see what you've got on ya"

"GET AWAY FROM HER!" The strange woman called. As she suddenly shot forward and pulled maera behind her. The mage could now recognize the woman's voice as the authoritative one she heard earlier.

"really now? 'sigh' we tried to do this the easy way but you wouldn't listen oh well you'll be so much easier to rob when you're dead" The leader said as he raised the strange device in his hands. The rest of his friends following suit.

The woman was attempting to shield maera with her own body. And raised her own weapon intending to fight back.

Maera wasn't going to let this stranger stand on her own, and began to prepare a spell but before anyone could do anything.

'BANG'

The sound cracked through the air unlike anything maera had ever heard before.

She felt something travel through the air. Just beside her head, and saw it impact in the bark of the tree. Right next to the leader's head. Sending splinters everywhere.

The man pulled back instinctively, and looked around for the source of the attack.

"i wouldn't be doing that if i was you pardner"

'cha-chink'

Came the familiar sound as marcus methodically reloaded his rifle.

He had missed deliberately of course. No need to go killing people if you didn't have to, at least that was his philosophy.

The varmint's were sloppy he decided. As he watched them almost route from sheer panic.

Not only had they been disappointingly easy to track and follow, and not only could he go unnoticed mere feet from them without effort. They had set up an ambush without any sort of distraction in place. Or even checking to make sure there was no one else around.

Then again he shouldn't be surprised. There were plenty of these types back in the mojave. Cruel brutes without a brain to their name.

He doubted they would of fared as well as he had they suddenly woken up in new vegas.

When marcus had woken up here he nearly panicked …

Nearly.

Quite a bit of time spent wandering the irradiated desert's of what used to be america had taught him several important lessons.

Lessons which he now put to use.

First of all don't panic, if you panic you can't think straight and you'll never find a solution.

Second observe your surroundings.

They were interesting surroundings indeed. All lush and green filled with tree's and grass.

The sun was not the cruel stare of the desert, but merely a gentle comforting warmth.

Marcus had seen almost all of the mojave, and in his experience there were very few places as full of life as this. The other thing he had seen was a campfire not far away.

Which meant people.

Revealing himself right away would just be plain stupid. For all he knew they could be cannibals.

At first he thought they were members of caesar's legion. Their armour certainly looked similar. But they lacked any of the training and discipline that the warlords soldiers usually have.

Perhaps they were bandits that scavenged their gear from dead soldiers?

Marcus had no great love for the legion but that was just low.

They had stayed in their camp for about half and hour.

The only conversation marcus had been able to pick up were complaints about the boss being a hard-ass, and some petty bickering over who got to what share of the loot.

Yep definitely bandits.

Eventually a large man in a decorative mask with a much bigger gun came, and said they were moving out. Apparently he had been in a meeting with someone.

Curious normally bandit chiefs don't answer to anyone but themselves.

Following them through the forest without being noticed was a simple matter. Though marcus was used to travelling through the mojave, rather than this verdant forest. He was skilled enough to make ample use of the terrain provided to him.

That and the bandits weren't very vigilant. About five minutes of walking later and the bandits came to a sudden stop.

"this is the place" The boss muttered.

'the place' Was apparently a tiny almost non-entity of a path through the forest.

It was here that the bandits began to hide among the bushes on either side of the path. Apparently preparing a very haphazard ambush.

It was a strange place for one to be sure. The path wasn't nearly large enough for a trading caravan of any sort. Hell it wasn't large enough for a herd of gecko to use

regularly. So who could they possibly be attempting to ambush?

Apparently one of the bandits agreed with his sentiments.

"boss what are we doing here?"

"shut it hank his high and mightiness said somebody is coming through here carrying something important something he's willing t'pay good credits fer"

"doesnt look like anybodies here"

"has he ever been wrong before?"

"nah i guess not … sorry boss"

"thats right you are now shut it or someone will hear us"

Marcus smiled inwardly, if only they knew.

He guessed this someone wouldn't be here right away. So he decided to take the time to get himself to a vantage point.

That tree looked like it would do.

It was however tougher than it looked to climb. He slipped at one point and nearly fell all the way down. Which would've not only broken quite a few bones, but alerted the bandits to his presence. Luckily however he was able to right himself shortly and made it to the top where he patiently waited.

It did not take long. The woman who came down the path was obviously an experienced soldier. She was moving with military discipline, and caution befitting of a veteran. Her gear was nothing to scoff at either. For while he didn't recognize the make, that gun could probably pack a punch. That armour looked sturdy too.

He knew what was going to happen a fraction before it did, apparently the soldier wasn't disciplined enough. He winced slightly as the branch cracked. It did not take long for the bandits revealed themselves. He listened in intently to the whole conversation. Preparing himself to intervene on the woman's behalf. Not that she couldn't handle them herself of course. But he couldn't just stay hidden forever, and what kind of man would he be if he just left her?

The other one had surprised him however.

Even rampaging through the forest like a bull at top speeds he hadn't noticed her. Strange one this person was too all dressed up in blues and golds with a big fancy staff like she was going to a ball of some sort. He watched as the first woman intervened to protect the second, and immediately his respect for her rose immensely. Anyone who was willing to risk themselves to protect others was good in his books. He began to tense as they readied their weapons.

Now or never.

Bringing his rifle up to bear he kept his breathing steady blinking once or twice

before firing.

'BANG'

"i wouldn't be doing that if i was you pardner"

'cha-chink'

That brings us to our current situation.

"what? who the hell shot that?"

"i did name's marcus and next time i wont be aiming fer bark got that?"

"..."

"good now you an' yer fellas there are gonna back off nice and slow and leave me and mah new friends here alone got that?"

"and why would we do that?"

"well i don't know about you but the lady here looks right furious and the gun o'hers is menacing …also...

i don't miss"

The bandit leader stayed silent for a moment. Weighing his options, he had about a dozen men versus a mage an armoured gunner and a deadshot sniper hidden in the trees.

"boss it aint worth it…"

"... you're right were getting out of here"

Marcus released a small breath of relief. He preferred not to fight when he didn't have to.

His breath hitched in his throat when their peaceful escape was thrown out the window.

By a large grey blur charging out of the forest. The blur stopped in front a bandit and whacked it in the face with something large and metal twice. Before slashing at another with something long and sharp.

...Completely severing the raider's arm. Then returning to face his previous opponet stabbed him through the chest. Completely ignoring whatever armour the bandit wore.

The grey blob turned around to face the rest of the group.

There standing tall and proud was a large blonde man. Covered head to toe in what looked like steel armour. Wielding an intricately carved shield and sword with some sort of horned helmet on his head.

"ALL RIGHT YOU MILKDRINKER'S WHO'S NEXT?!"

It had come as a great surprise to aslandar to wake up in an unfamiliar forest.

Being both relieved and worried immensely, at being taken away from his battle with alduin.

While he was grateful to have some relief from the titanic struggle.

He now had several more things to worry about.

Was alduin now free to wreak havoc as he pleased?

Had he also been transported?

Was this his doing?

Where was he?

That particular one had been bothering aslandar for quite some time now.

The forest certainly wasn't one he recognized and he had been all over skyrim.

It was warm too.

There were very few places in the cold northern land which exuded as much warmth as this place,

and most of those were inside inns.

Finding the path had been simple enough.

Though he wouldn't really call it a path, more of a game trail than anything.

But as the old proverb went 'all roads lead to cyrodiil'.

So the dragonborn of legend had set off following the only sign of civilization around. Listening to the quiet birdsong and gentle wind.

Divines how much he wished for something to kill right now.

Under normal circumstances the nord could appreciate the beauty of the nature around him. But after the desperate struggle against the world eater, the staleness of the whole situation was almost stifling.

And so his mood had steadily declined as time went on.

His heavy armour annoyingly clinking and clanking. As flies constantly buzzed around his relic helmet.

And heat the likes of which was simply not natural in skyrim beat down.

But worst of all the growing need to stab something.

But suddenly all those negative emotions vanished and he had to struggle to keep a grin off of his face.

As he heard those age old familiar words.

"...so much easier to rob when you're dead"

There was only one type of individual he had ever encountered who ever said that,

bandits.

Most people hated bandits, dishonorable scum who stole from the weak and hid away in sacred ruins.

Aslandar loved them.

Not only could the occasional chief provide an entertaining challenge. But there were always more bandits to be found somewhere.

Always more to meet his blade.

They were like the toy that never broke.

Immediately he ran full speed in the direction the sound had come from.

His manic grin growing larger and larger by the second.

Bursting out of the brush he finally laid eyes on his target.

There were about a dozen of them. In rusty makeshift armour. Some of them bore strange masks, or wore brightly coloured scarves over their faces. In their hands they wielded strange devices with long tube sections. One was larger than the rest with an appropriately larger version of the tube-thing. Probably the leader. They had surrounded two women. One was a bosmer mage by the looks of the robe she wore. The other was a breton as far as he could tell, and wore very strangely shaped black armour. With a red stripe and a white N7 printed on it. On the woman's face were glowing yellow scars the like of which he had never seen.

He idly noted that the tree beside the leaders head had a chunk taken out of it,

and that almost all of the bandit's appeared to be human.

Deducing that the women must be the intended targets. He quickly used bashed one of the bandit's face in with the shield of ysgramor twice. Before twirling around and smoothly slicing another's arm off. The rusty metal scraps proving no match for the legendary blade. Turning again to the dazed bandit who had fallen to his knees. He plunged skyforge steel into his chest before looking to the rest and calling out

"ALL RIGHT YOU MILKDRINKER'S WHO'S NEXT?!"

The bandit's reaction was immediate. Almost as one they drew and pointed the tube-things at him. But aslandar was not slow in the least. He dashed to the nearest one and with two quick strikes finished him off.

The nords grin faltered slightly, as he realized how easy these bandits were.

… ahh well you win some you lose some

'zzaaap'

He heard it before he felt it. A strange keening noise almost like the voice of a spriggan. A bright red light travelled the distance, between the tip of one of the bandit's weapons and his chest. Impacting with surprising force making him stumble back a few steps.

Looking down he saw a dent in his previously pristine armour. Covered in a large black scorch mark.

He felt as if he had just been shot. With a red hot brand as the arrow. Though thankfully he himself had sustained no real damage, thanks to his armour's enchantment.

He looked up and and grinned like a madman.

"that hurt"

Apparently these brigands weren't so defenseless after all. Bringing up his legendary shield he charged forward. Feeling several more shots impact against the artifact. But thankfully the ancient armament held true.

As he charged he could see he was not alone in combat.

The elf mage was releasing arcane lightning from her fingertips, towards those who would dare threaten her.

Their pained cries were music to his ears, as the magical energy scorched their flesh.

The armoured breton had brought her own strange tube weapon up, and was releasing into the enemies in loud bursts.

'dakkadakkadakka'

Aslandar did not know what that weapon was but it was certainly effective.

Wherever it pointed bandits fell several holes in their abdomen.

'BANG' Came a noise from up above in the treetops, and immediately another bandit fell. A single hole in the middle of his forehead.

Apparently they also had another ally in the trees.

Aslandar used the same strategy every foe he came up to.

Bash them in the face twice, before finishing them off with one clean stroke of his sword.

Not being accustomed to the same kind of combat he was, the bandits fell over themselves trying to get away from the large warrior. Trying to shoot him from range luckily they weren't very accurate.

Nevertheless the dragonborn did not come out of the scuffle unscathed. receiving several shots scorching his torso.

Gods those things stung.

Between him, the mage's spells, the bretons strange weapon, and their mysterious ally in the trees the thieves didn't stand a chance, and soon it was only the leader left running off into the trees.

Aslandar considered going after him. But eventually he decided it would be better to make acquaintances with his new allies. Turning to face them, he saw a man clad in leather armour with a strange hat sitting on his head slowly climb down from the tree. Another long tube-thing strapped to his back.

Aslandar would have to ask about those.

All four of them stood there awkwardly for several seconds examining one another, and waiting for someone to say something.

Finally aslandar broke the silence.

"well ...that was fun"


End file.
